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Disconcerting as it may be, there’s certainly something arresting, focus-intensifying about seeing an artist for what you know will be the last time. Whilst farewell tours can sometimes be trotted out, phoned in celebrations, when we heard that Owen Pallett would be no longer touring his stunning solo material, I was on call to tell as many people as possible to go, because he is not someone you want to miss.

He revealed earlier in the year that he feels no need to tour after this year. “I had a wonderful moment last March when I realised that I didn’t want to play the violin onstage any more”.

“2015 is my last year of touring, it’s extremely liberating.”

Liberating for him, it should create a thoughtful cynosure for you – this is the last chance, buddy.

First time I saw him, was in the smaller but no less hallowed surroundings of The Gate in Roath, 6 summers ago. A relative newcomer to his work (I pretty much just got giddy at This Is the Dream of Win & Regine), it was an astounding set. Touring as ‘Final Fantasy’ then, until he had to change his name due to the same named game (so much competition between singular Violin looping artists and Japanese Role Playing Games), he captivated a open mouthed audience – most people sat cross-legged on the floor, watching his beautiful, intricate, dissonant, playful, singular, neo-classic songs cascade ideas upon us.

There can’t be many more contemporary artists of a similar ilk who’s heads seem to bubble up quite so many stunningly original ideas. That the gig in The Gate ended with him playing in the car park opposite to a hushed crowd in the dark did make it more special, but somehow his music has a force of it’s own that lifts gigs into the ‘special’ category, regardless of the undoubtedly beautiful, simple experience of hearing him there.

Since then, he’s made several stunning albums of even more experimental, maximalist orchestrated LPs. Maturing from the intensely personal work before, Heartland was narratively cryptic, with random, allusive and ellusive references to a character called ‘Lewis’ appearing beneath sparingly but beautifully embellished electronic sounds atop his orchestral ideas. Illustrious & grand, but it never stood still in your ears – it felt like a stunning, constantly changing intricate puzzle box that you might find in a Guillermo del Toro movie – never to be solved, always to enchant you.

Last years In Conflict is the zenith of his work so far though. Stripping away much of the grand visions or pretences, it is plaintively direct and more openly ‘confessional’ (I use apostrophes as it does feel a little too Red-Top describing any work of art as such). Whether through ‘The Passions’ hazily orchestrated violins complementing the simplistic, thoughtful pianos and directly told relationship tales or the rousing, almost rock-y, by turns cacophonic ‘Riverbed’, Pallet’s neo-classic ear and intense originality is set upon a kind of ‘pop’ with no mediating pose.

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And as quickly as it begun, it was over. For the many of us Cardiff gig-goers who are accustomed to cramming a year’s worth of singular, brilliant Indie & much much more into one weekend, I’m sure it was a widespread feeling when we woke up on Sunday morning, expectantly excited for the next three days of Swn. Maybe that’s just me – there’ve been some superb other festivals doing their own thing this year but nonetheless fulfilling the cultural cravings that usually build up to being sated in mid-October.

Hub had a clutch of hugely promising local acts, Juxtaposed & Jealous Lovers filled a bill with Rad-Indie and Holy Boredom had a whole weekend of experimental, pulsating weirdness to behold. Nonetheless, Swn and those other events are their own things, and the thrill of wandering down Womanby St and seeing a cue for something you’ve never heard of, for that weekend’s must-see act was still a Swn-delight this year – with hoards desperate to see Wytches and The Amazing Snakeheads ferocious sets. Despite the roster of bands slimming down to a (relatively speaking) petite 60 or so, there was still the sense of potential and of inner-city expanse fed by the feeling there is always a fresh faced gem hidden amongst Cardiff’s many streets you still had to snake around.

There was still space for new festival nooks and crannies to open up too. The BBC Horizons/Gorwelion scheme very much reflects the Swn ethos toward new Welsh music, so it was fitting to see it at the heart of the festival – in the wristband exchange in CFQ on the as usual brimming Womnaby St, with many of their 12 supported artists performing, including Gabrielle Murphy, which you can read more about below. Add to that the justified reverential hush enveloping the transcendental performance by A Winged Victory For The Sullen at St Davids Hall and there was plenty of newness to keep you alive with interest. Here’s the pick of Dim Swn 2014, as seen by Mari Lowe, Ruth Tolerton & Lloyd Griffiths.

The Amazing Snakeheads
All too ready was I to be completely alienated by hyper-masculinity as I entered the upstairs of Clwb Ifor Bach part way through The Amazing Snakeheads’ set. The venue packed to the brim with festering, sweaty bodies; and none more so than the three figures prowling the stage. How wrong I was – no sooner have I found myself a convenient spot than I am fused into the filthy body of the crowd, totally absorbed by the raw, blues-drenched flesh of the feculent music. Little by way of communication is needed between band and crowd; maggot-fated, we are here to writhe in ecstasy at every sultry riff, every wrenching howl from vocalist Dale Barclay. Something happened between initial alienation and basking in glorious wonder, but trying to pin it down would be as futile as resisting the urge to cavort in the face of The Amazing Snakeheads’ film noir-esque tantalisation.

Ruth Tolerton

Rag N’ Bone Man
Playing early evening at Buffalo, Rory Graham aka Rag N Bone Man delivered a smooth sound, testament to his skills as a wonderful vocalist – with occasional rasp and rich bass notes. The crowd wasn’t huge but there was a lot of love with plenty of singing along, including Cardiff mates Baby Queens. The audience were slow to warm up at this early-in-the-evening slot, but permission to dance came with the arrival on-stage of friend and rapper Stig of the Dump. Self-deprecatingly he invited us to provide the moves for “two clumsy fat men”, but drummer Ben Thomas’s effortlessly cool style provided more than enough reason to regardless. As a whole, Rag N’ Bone Man’s tracks reveal a skilful and heady mix of blues, soul, hip-hop and spirituals – with many captivating live, notably Life In Her Yet, a moving and beautiful track written about Graham’s Grandmother.

Mari Lowe

Titus Monk
Having had the cheerful encouragement of hearing the fascinatingly varied, fully formed catalogue of Titus Monk online–which had the brio to segue seamlessly from impetuous Kings of Leon vibrancy to misty and brooding TV on the Radio style experimentalism – it’s fair to say I did not anticipate his voice to find its way to entertaining a Gwdihw crowd with straight off the bat acoustic country sounds. However, his more ‘conventional’ takes with a pointed amalgam of acoustic styles, from hammered folk style strumming to plaintive country augmented by the bounty of bass and baritone that is his superb voice, it’s hard to be disappointed. With looping that added subtle emotional shifts to keep the songs far from folkish sentimentalism, it’ll be interesting to see how the songs feel expanded by a full band.

Lloyd Griffiths

Luvv
Newly formed from also-Cardiff based Chain of Flowers, there was a very healthy crowd gathered for the post-punk influenced Luvv in Undertone’s claustrophobic surroundings, at a 3pm slot that you’d be forgiven for thinking didn’t tally with their South-Wales Hardcore lineage.
Keeping alive a DIY aesthetic – “we have cassette tapes at the back” – they delivered a noisy, moody and engaging sound which showed a sophisticated handling of their wide punk and post-punk influences.
The drummer and bassist provided a persistent pummel and their guitars were honed with detail and intricacy, adding an elegance that lifted their songs up to something special. With a heavy dose of delay, songs such as ‘More’ had dirty vocals coming from their lead singer’s small, angular frame with a slurred, vacant feel that made lyrics appealing to the heartbroken all the more captivating.

Mari Lowe

Gabrielle Murphy
Starting my Dim Swn day, I headed down to the wristband exchange at CFQ in time to catch Gabrielle Murphy, framed by the racks of vintage clothing and the omnipresent festival buntings. After showcasing her velvety, rich vocals we’re informed that her guitarist fell ill at the last moment and has been replaced, lo and behold, by Gabrielle’s father. Her choice of covering Thin Lizzy’s ‘Dancing in the Moonlight’ holds perfectly for the atmosphere and there’s no sign of her father telling her she’s living in a trance; rather, his guitar holds up her mesmerising vocal command.

Ruth Tolerton

Blaenavon
Descending into the depths of Undertone, little can be seen beyond the density of the crowd until eventually I catch a peek of Blaenavon silhouetted against moody backlighting. Something of the uncanny is in this band’s signature sound too. Their instrumentation is in turn delicately creeping, lonesome and sinister, before it becomes explosive and bursts through the venue, pulsing and energised. Ben Gregory’s vocals show remarkable maturity as he adapts from assured gentleness, to a playfulness perhaps reminiscent of The Futurehead’s Ross Millard at his best, and back again.

Ruth Tolerton

Taffy
Most of the late night surprises you receive anywhere in the vicinity of St Mary’s St on a Saturday night tend to involve harassment by way of blow up toys or finding yourself trapped in a world of polystyrene and discarded gravy, so it was with a reassuring kind of curiosity I went to see the to-me unknown Taffy at Four Bars. Although they might sound like a laddish insult from the aforementioned road, they were actually a breezily enthused pop-punk band, riffing on Shonen Knife with some Britpop bands of a similarly fuzzy-fun ilk in there. Songs such as ‘Tune in a Jar’ would happily soundtrack a Twisted By Design night on the same floor, even if they feel derivative of C86 era Indie-pop. Not entirely surprising fun then, but fun nonetheless.

Lloyd Griffiths

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A week before this year’s abbreviated (if nonetheless sparklingly good looking) one day Dim Swn fest and a few days after a meeting discussed the seemingly high cost of even pre-emptively working out how to rejuvenate the Coal Exchange, it seems like yet another time where audiences will be asking questions about the ins and outs and state of the Cardiff music scene. Regular gig goers will doubtlessly utter a small sigh at prospective navel gazing – everyone who has even fleetingly forayed into Cardiff’s thriving alternative music gigs knows the problems that remain – no mid sized venues, a dearth of public transport and others which coalesce to give a nagging sense that our capital is outwardly perceived as a ‘nearly’ city on the touring circuit.

Those do seem unalterably and therefore slightly boring questions to repeat ad nauseum but looking closer at the variety of Indie-ish promoters – Jealous Lovers Club, Joy Collective, Fizzi and Holy Boredom amongst others who are able to pop up and pick singularly intriguing bands to book, it seems important to explore the shape of things at a more individual promoter level. Hence why we’ve been talking to Ben Gallivan, aka Red Medicine on his experiences of putting on a fascinating mix of local gems, experimental wonders and the occasional breakout act (such as his recent sold out Sleaford Mods show) and the reasons behind why he’s chosen to retire Red Medicine, with his final show at the Full Moon from That F**king Tank to come on October 14th.

Q: Give us a little more detail about the bands you’ve been promoting and how you got into the game around Cardiff?
I’ve been involved in the music scene for nigh on 20 years now. Playing in bands at first, then writing about and reviewing them and then for the past couple of years promoting them. The promotion actually started a little while after starting the benlikesmusic.com site with help from YEAH Local who have much more internet savvy than us. I was writing about local bands that I’d seen and reviewing EPs and albums then one day somebody asked me if I put on gigs. It seemed like the ideal time to start.

Q: What convinced you to do it around Cardiff? Was there something about gig goers/audiences here that encouraged you?
By the time I considered starting promoting I’d been living in Cardiff for 3 or so years and had been regularly going to gigs and chatting with the bands and promoters. I liked the diversity of the audiences that turned up to the different venues. Cardiff audiences seemed interesting to me because they seemed to be more receptive to more off-beat bands and artists than in other places that I’ve lived.

Q: Like many in Cardiff, promoting isn’t your day job – was it something you just wanted to always do for fun or did you think “I could do this better” than others? Following from that – did it become less fun/take more time than you thought?
I knew from the start that it was going to be challenging to get into event promotion in Cardiff. There used to be a monthly get-together of promoters at ClwbIfor Bach that John Rostron used to look after; I turned up to my first one only to find another 30-40 people in the same room who were doing the exact same thing. I never thought I could do it better than others, I just thought that I could do it differently.
It does take a lot of time, definitely. Trying to build up a following has been the hardest part of it all as I was pretty much playing catch-up the entire time to people like Jealous Lovers Club, The Joy Collective et al.

Q: Have you just picked out certain bands you’ve always put on or has it been a case of jumping when opportunities come?
I basically put on bands that I enjoy watching myself (forgetting that most of the time I miss them by having to sit on the door). Sometimes gigs come from bands that have been in touch with me, some of them simply from me enjoying what I’ve seen at a previous gig or had recommended to me. I obviously do have my favourites; Totem Terrors, Gwenno and Y Pencadlys have all featured at my shows in one way or another around half a dozen times.

Q: Is there still the perception from bands and agents that Cardiff is one-stop away from being on the normal UK tour itinerary? What do you think can be done by smaller promoters and venues about changing that if so?
I do feel that touring bands take a somewhat blinkered view of Cardiff; Wales in general in fact. It’s long been established that Cardiff doesn’t have enough mid-sized venues of, say, 300-500 capacity which doesn’t help matters, but I sometimes get the feeling from agents that they think it’s some kind of backwater town than a city with a thriving music scene. I don’t think the promoters and venues can do much more in all honesty; we just need to maybe convince them that you can play Bristol and Cardiff and get a good crowd at both.

Q: Do you agree that promoters are pretty friendly and like-minded around Cardiff – could there be more sharing of gigs/collaboration between promoters/what more could be done?
Definitely. There’s always going to be some kind of friendly rivalry as to who can get the big names and there are inevitable clashes; simply unavoidable due to the number of promoters in the city and only seven days in one week. I have noticed quite a lot more promoters teaming up to work on getting some bigger names into Cardiff/Newport over the past 6 months or so and they have worked really well in most cases. After winding down Red Medicine there’s every chance I’ll help out other promoters if I am asked and if it suits.

Q: Have the disparities between the enthusiasm of yourself and bands and the frustrations of the business of promoting/small audiences dampened your excitement about any of the gigs?
The problem that I’ve had when promoting my shows over the past couple of years is that many of them have been non-ticketed events so you basically have no idea who or how many people are going to turn up. You can always go down the Facebook event page route, but that simply doesn’t give you any firm idea of numbers; the ‘halve the number attending plus 10’ thing just doesn’t work. This is frustrating for bands also, especially touring ones who will constantly badger you for expected numbers when they know you can’t really provide them. On the flipside, you could put on a trio of unknown acts and have the biggest audience in ages – that’s basically my experience of how Cardiff works.

Q: Talk us through your best gig/audience you’ve had so far – was it just luck it came together, or are you any wiser to how to encourage a great/responsive audience?
There have been a good few surprise ones along the way. One of the big successes I had was an amazing show at Le Pub in Newport. Death Pedals were touring and I had to find good local supports. The Sick Livers were suggested to me and I chanced on a band called Swift Arvel who wanted to play their first show. The Sick Livers’ popularity and general mayhem, added to seemingly all of Swift Arvel’s friends and family turning up meant it turned into a rammed venue and a great night. Definitely one of the best if not the best.

Q: Conversely, what’s the most indicative experience of the difficulties/frustrations of promoting in South Wales?
On a personal level, it’s finding the best way to create a name for yourself and get a good following going. Not long after starting promoting, I managed to secure a gig with Scott and Charlene’s Wedding who had gone down a storm at Glastonbury a few weeks beforehand. Despite plugging the hell out of it and getting a trio of amazing supports sorted, fewer than 30 people turned up. It didn’t help that the venue had failed to update their listings or put any of the posters up to entice people in.
There have been times where the bands themselves haven’t done their share of promoting for an event and are then surprised when there’s nobody there to see them; it should be a given that they shouldn’t expect the promoter to do everything.

Q: What are the reasons you’ve decided to stop – do you still think there’s an audience for the weirder/alternative acts you put on here?
I wouldn’t say that they’re weird/alternative; I guess they’re just smaller acts that I’d like to see turn into bigger acts. The first show I put on included Laurence Made Me Cry and Ellie Makes Music who have since been playing around the country and being nominated for awards and such; it’s nice to see. There are two simple reasons why I’ve decided to stop Red Medicine; time and money. I’ve put on 25 shows in a little under two years and as enjoyable as most of them have been, they all make you a little crazy. I’ve also found that it’s become a lot harder/more expensive since moving out of the city a little over a year ago. Even something as simple as postering doubles in price due to the travel involved and it all adds up.

Q: What would you say to people thinking about going into promotion around here?
Take your time. I went head first into it, burned out and was ready to stop after only 6 shows under my belt. My initial ‘retirement’ just turned into a three month break as I couldn’t help myself. Don’t be aloof – get friendly with other promoters around the city, otherwise you’re doing yourself no favours. And also, do ticketed gigs as often as possible and have a separate bank account. And buy the acts sandwiches, they love that.

Q: So you put on a really successful, sold out gig at the Moon Club with Sleaford Mods – did that make you reconsider to stop promoting?
Yes. That was pretty much the perfect gig. All the bands were friendly, the day went without a single hitch and it was good to see all the acts enjoying each other’s music as well as the audience. I’m looking after the Sleaford Mods return to Cardiff in March because I think they enjoyed the day as much as I did. Thing is though, these gigs are a rarity. The fact that it sold out meant that I didn’t have to worry about anything as I knew I was going to make the money I’d poured into it back, and then some. If I thought I could do that – or close to – every month then I’d carry on. I’ll dip in every now and again, but more as collaborations with other promoters, or managing any band that’ll have me.

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Q: It’s been quite a few years since the last album, how have things changed for you as an artist since then, and has having a lot of time affected the new record a lot and what you wrote about?

Its been four years since we released the last record, but not all that time was spent writing music. I have a F/T job, I’ve been studying for a PGCE, I am a husband and a father of 2 kids. I like to play football and cricket so it doesn’t really give much time to do music. But saying that lots of things happen in four years. A lot of the album is about being a parent, which is probably the biggest change in my life while writing the album.

Q: On the kickstarter page for the album, you said you wrote a lot of songs – more than 150 to get to the point where crocfingers and you thought it was good to go. Were you writing specifically for a certain idea you had of what the album would be or did the themes develop gradually?

I was just desperate to release another record after humber dogger forties, and just kept sending them every idea for a song that I had to the point of alienation. The large majority really were crap. Crocfingers kept telling me this, and telling me that I needed to write an album that was cohesive. It’s still musically diverse but I think it works as a whole.

Q: How has releasing it thanks to Kickstarter varied from other releases – Do you think the tight knit music scene in Cardiff helped that?

Well it means we don’t loose as much money as we do on other releases. We still loose money, but not as much. We sell about 200 copies. What kickstarter did was get people to buy advance copies, which was great. It meant we could pay for a plugger, leading to lots of airplay for our single. We really appreciate everyone who pledged, it means that we could see who was supporting us. As regards to the scene you mention. I would say around a 1/3 of the pledgers I know socially. I have always intentionality steered clear of a “music scene”. I don’t want to mix my social network with the music I do. My last band were London based, and my new band are from the valleys.

Q: There’s a really great melancholy and nostalgia on the 1st single not often done that well about Sport or Football in particular – what are your early memories of Football, and also has being a kid growing up in a smaller town influenced your writing a lot?

That song mentions my early memories. It was about going down the park whatever the weather, and playing football. Trees were goalposts and defenders, you had to play around them. You would get moved around the park so you didn’t ruin the grass too much. Sometimes you played on “pitches” that didn’t have any tree defenders. I played football the most though at a very early age, like from 4 about 9 with a guy called Stuart Smith, and he would just shoot at me all the time, and I would just dive around saving everything. I loved being a goalkeeper, and then did that until I realised I was never going to be tall enough. I played for boysclubs and stuff but nothing better than those early games of FA knockout with 5 kids or 20 players on each team. The parks were the best places to play, but it didn’t matter if you couldn’t play there. School yards, old tip sites anywhere. A lot of the album is about looking back at being a kid since having my own. The song was inspired by bumping into Stuart in the park we would play football and we were both pushing our young babies. I don’t live there, so I was on a nostalgia trip at that time, and him being there just made it even more nostalgic. It’s hard not to look back when you are a new parent.

Q: I Was a Goalkeeper is a kind of a microcosm of the whole album thematically, so how come the LP’s title ending up changing from that to what it is?

Three reasons. For internet purposes. Having the lead single and the album with the same name seemed like a bad idea. Cause we wanted to get away from IWAGK being a “World Cup song” which it isn’t. It’s not really about football or the World Cup. and Cause The Death of John MOuse sounds good.

Q: I’ve tried to connect the dots but I just can’t – where did the title Robbie Savage come from?

It’s a misheard line. Crocfingers thought that the line “Macho Man Randy Savage” was “Macho Man Robbie Savage” So it was called Robbie Savage.

Q: You get compared to a lot more bands and artists than most (The Strokes baffled me a bit!), were there stand out influences that informed this LP in particular?

Yeah, that always happens. Well it was wrote over a long period of time. So these are the artists I was listening too the most over this period. Malcolm Middleton, Aiden Moffat, Jonny Cash, Bill Callaghan, Tindersticks, Prince Edward Island, Nick Cave, Silver Jews, The Smiths & The Vaccines.

Q: When I’ve seen you live it’s always been a pretty upbeat, funny and naked-ish affair, how will the more downbeat and sombre songs fit into you playing live?

It’s still upbeat but the sombre number, it’s only Robbie Savage, will cut through the middle of the set and give people a break from the loud noise. I have a new band and they are pretty loud!

Q: As a whole the album really reminds me of the Bills Wells & Aidan Moffat Everything’s Getting Older with the melancholic and nostalgic tone but there’s also some shifts in pace and more upbeat stuff which give colour to the overall feel in a really nice way and feel true to life, were there albums or even books that informed that?

Kind of like the earlier question. I don’t really listen to much music. I don’t have that much time. It’s mostly in the car on the way to and back from work, and cause I can’t be arsed to change the cd’s I tend to listen to things over and over and over. I think I listed to the Bill Callaghan “Sometimes I wish I were an eagle” for about a year non stop. Then yes that Bill Wells/Moffat album was on loop for some time too. I like music with words. Words are the most important thing to me, and the delivery of them. Prince Edward Island are a huge influence too. I write with Phil from the band. He pretty much does all the music. I send him songs, and he makes them happen. So you would probably have to speak to him about what influences him The books I was reading probably influenced the way I write them too. Bukowski & Vonnegut are great fun.

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Ever since I saw East India Youth, or William Doyle as his Mum calls him, support Wild Beasts in Bristol’s 02 Academy earlier this year, the inclination to interview him was fortified very sturdily in my head. Having seen the hype about his album Total Strife Forever in gushing reviews on respected fountains of musical knowledge such as Drowned in Sound & The Quietus, I’d listened to some of his work, notably the cathartic house influenced euphoria of ‘Heaven, Too Long’ without ever fully throwing myself into experiencing the album. More fool me, because witnessing it live committed the breadth and ambition of TSF to my mind and I’ve been utterly hooked ever since. In just a 30 minute set, the density of musical ideas was almost baffling. It is really rare to have so many moments of musical revelation, of exhiliration at such well thought out creative brilliance unfolding – on what is ostensibly a debut. Despite being packed with a variety of genres, emotional tones and working at several paces, there are thematic arcs which emerge.

Amongst the droney, almost industrial electronic sounds, neo-classicist motifs build the album into more than the sum of its parts, locating the human amongst the digital noise. It’s what makes the standout moments so transcendent – when Doyle sings “find new love, dripping down your soul” in the harmonic chorus of ‘Dripping Down’, it is so vital as the albums moments of lyrical and musical clarity are beautifully momentary – set against extended, almost overwhelming musical motifs. Aiming to work out what brought about such a brilliant record, I asked Will for his thoughts on the records influences, his approach to playing it live and what’s next.

Q: Just for anyone who doesn’t know, could you say about the circumstances that led to you making Total Strife Forever and how it fed into the feel of the album?
My life was at a crossroads. I’d decided it was the end of my previous band that I’d spent 3 years being involved with and I had a massive backlog of more electronic inclined stuff that I felt more emotionally invested in. Everything was in a huge state of flux around me at this time, both positively and negatively, and the music I was making was a definite reaction to this. Bringing what I had on my hard drive together, stuff I’d been recording for 2 years, and realising that I nearly had a whole album already was a huge revelation and brought with it a great sense of achievement. TOTAL STRIFE FOREVER, to me, feels like it explores both the anguish of the time it was made in but also the feeling of freedom and empowerment of having made it.

Q: For people going to Green Man who’ve maybe not heard the whole album, can you explain the influences and sound behind the more ‘neo-classical/electro’ stuff that forms much of it?
It’s quite a stylistically scatty album. It doesn’t sit in one place for too long. I suppose because it took about 3 years to make that it ended up being that way. There are more instrumental tracks than there are vocals which might be a jarring mix for some people. The album moves through minimalist and neo-classical, to techno, krautrock, synth-pop.

Q: Even though there’s a lot of ideas and genres on TSF, they do seem to tie together somehow – Aside from the Total Strife Forever songs, was there any overall theme or idea that emerged as you were making the album?
I don’t really know if there was. There’s a certain atmosphere in my mind when I look back on the album, but I think that’s all been retrospectively formed. I guess there’s certain emotions that come through on the whole thing, a feeling of isolation, but also euphoria crops up quite a bit too. It wasn’t my intention to make a concept album or anything, but there was a certain degree of work put into the sequencing of the tracks to make sure there was some thread to hang onto in light of all the erratic shifts going on over the course of it.

Q: I was really pleased when I saw you reference Age of Adz as one of your favourite albums – is there something similar in the full-on almost overwhelming nature of the music and emotion on that record that you wanted to invest in TSF in your own way?
Absolutely. It was a huge influence on the album. It’s one of the most intensely emotional albums I’ve heard in recent years. I loved the almost ridiculous grandiosity of the arrangements. I definitely wanted that to be something that came across in the sound of my album. The way I always thought about it was that sometimes your emotions are these imperceptibly massive things to you, but really, in the grand scheme of everything and everyone around you, you and and your emotions are so small. That dichotomy is something I feel like is explored on Age of Adz, and a few other albums like it. This little voice versus this huge feeling.

Q: What did you mean when you said you had to work against your instinct whilst making the album – was that to get yourself in the right songwriting headspace to get down ideas?
I’d just been so used to being ‘a songwriter’ for a few years leading up to this that I’d started to develop conventions that I would rest upon and that I would use to take lazy routes out of creative problems. One of the main examples of working against my instinct was the removal of vocals or the need to sing over every shred of music made. That simple subtraction created entirely more emotional results both in the lack of singing but also the carefully selected moments where it was necessary.

Q: Was it similar when you started to perform it live – did it seem like a natural thing to perform it for you?
Christ, no. I had to rethink everything I knew about performing. It’s been a really interesting challenge developing the live show and my approach to performing this. I think I’ve worked out how to play TOTAL STRIFE FOREVER live now. It’s going to be time to move on and redesign the entire thing again next year. I’m happy with the almost austere look of everything on stage at the moment, but I’m starting to feel shackled by my table I play on. Standing behind it was a defence mechanism when I started EIY, but I’m longing to be free of it now that my confidence has grown.

Q: Has playing more headline sets and festival sets to bigger crowds allowed you to develop the show as you wanted – in terms of sound and visuals?

You learn what makes people tick I suppose. But actually it’s been the support slots that have allowed me to really know how it works. Playing to someone else’s audience is always harder and if you manage to make a connection with someone who has never heard or seen you before then it is those moments that you should analyse. What draws the stranger or the neutral person in? What turns them away?

Q:It was interesting when you said you may just turn your keyboard off and wander over to see Mercury Rev at Green Man, because TSF and Deserter Songs are two albums I’d love to see performed in full. I was listening to Deserter Songs Instrumental versions and it actually made me think instrumental and especially electronic albums often work better when bands play albums in full, which I guess is closer to what you do live. Is showing the album as a whole important when you play live and were there any moments seeing people play live that influenced how you chose to?

If you see your album as a whole body of work in itself and not just a collection of songs that make up a whole, then I think it’s important that you preserve that the best you can. I play my album in a different order live because I’m aware that the dynamics of a live show are wildly different to listening at home with your headphones on. Having said that, I’ve seen very few, if any ‘play your album through’ shows that I’ve been impressed with. The Flaming Lips playing ‘The Soft Bulletin’ was something I was really looking forward to, but it was a massive disappointment. They should have played it start to finish without much talking in between. Wayne Coyne jabbering on in between each song is not how I listen to that album and it ruined the flow of something that I think is near perfect. So in a weird way, I suppose that show influenced me in a strange way. I try to shut the fuck up and get on with it. There’s plenty of time to talk and reflect afterwards but while the show is going on, I want to create an atmosphere and space that I will try to keep unbroken for the duration. It’s a shame I’m going to miss Mercury Rev as they’re playing at the same time as me. I’d be really interested to see how they handle that one. It’s a beautiful album.

Q: How is new stuff coming together – has it been harder to get in a singular mindset as I imagine you might’ve been when making TSF?
I’ve had less accumulative time to make the next album but weirdly I’m nearly finished with it. I think after I’d finished the mastering of TSF and it was a sealed deal, a finished packaged, then the flood gates opened and I was straight into sifting through my massive bank of ideas that I’d been making since I finished the initial tracking and mixing of TSF. I won’t say too much about what I’m working on now but I’m very excited for it. If it all goes to plan it’s going to provide another great year for me.

Q: It’s a generic question I know, but been as there’s a particularly strong lineup at Green Man this year, is there anyone you’re looking forward to seeing (Mercury Rev sadness aside)?
I Break Horses. I really love their last album that came out this year and I don’t think it got the due attention it deserved. Would love to see how they play it live. Caribou. I only saw Caribou for the first time this year, after years of being a fan. It was absolutely mind blowing so there’s no way I’m going to miss that. I might try to watch The War on Drugs if I’m not needed backstage before my set. ‘Under The Pressure’ is one of my favourite songs of the year so it’d be nice to see that in the setting of Green Man. That’s all off the top of my head but I’m really excited for the whole experience generally. It’s one of only two festivals I’m camping at this year (Beacons was the other. 10/10 for that one) so I’m going to make sure I see as much as possible.

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It would be a rather recalcitrant way to introduce you to the middle day of Green Man’s music, but an equally appropriate preview for the stunning Saturday lineup as the soundclouds and words we’ve submitted below, would be a picture of a list of the 9 bands just on the Mountain stage that day joined by a picture of an upwardly pointing thumb. The list of bands speak for themselves.

Green Man has seen some particularly strong runs of bands in the past – The National followed local legends Super Furry Animals in 2008 springs to mind most obviously, but probably none as so comprehensively, engagingly awesome as Saturday’s. Even the supposedly ‘under-the-radar’ Georgia Ruth (according to the405), who opens the days proceedings, won last years Welsh Music Prize and a sense of well earned artistic intrigue flows through the lineup like a vein; from the flickering, daydreaming electricity of Angel Olsen’s Indie-folk, The War on Drugs’ stunning and profound layered folk-rock and atop it all Mercury Rev, performing the beautiful Deserter Songs in full.

Not that we recommend perching your rear in front of the main arena all day (you’ll need those dead legs for dancing to Luke Abbott & The Field later on) – there’s remarkable gems all around the site. For one, you should probably begin playing a three way rock-paper-scissors to decide which headliner to see. Slint versus Mercury Rev versus East India Youth. Best to put down an each way bet, wait for the full timings to get announced and try and catch 2 of the 3 if you still have them legs. Here’s what we are definitely readying our limbs to run, dance and sway to.

Saturday

H. Hawkline – I Used To Get Around – Walled Garden

H. Hawkline is the pseudonym of Huw Evans, one of the more talented collaborators who enjoy several guises in several Cardiff bands, (in the past he’s played with Islet and Sweet Baboo), as well as one of the few celebrated Welsh-Indie acts who has had some level of recognition beyond that scenes sometimes perceived backslapping insularity. It’s for good reason too – his songs are most often catchily insistent, with psychedelic and folk influences always happily adjoined by a ‘-pop’ coda and certified top quality co-workers like Cate le Bon. ‘I Used To Get Around’ is of the more stomping, garage end of his wide range and all the better for it.

East India Youth – Heaven How Long – Walled Garden

In an effort to convince you that you should see William Doyle’s East India Youth over the majesterial talents of Mercury Rev or Slint, both who play the same headline slot across Green Man’s 3 stages as he, we have managed to interview the man himself. As much as that sounds a little bit sarcastic, it’s not actually far from the truth – that anyone who’s come into contact with his debut LP Total Strife Forever will be desperate to convert you. By turns droney, house inspired, soaring, neo-classicist and more, it is easily the most ambitious electronic album of 2014 for me and ‘Heaven, How Long’ is its central pole, a transcendent song that hones on Doyle’s thinly spread but beautifully effective vocals, which match the gradual euphoric assemblage of the song to melancholic euphoria.

Check back on Plastik over this weekend for more previews, plus next week for interviews with, amongst others – John Mouse and East India Youth

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It’s suffice to say that I could barely believe my eyes when double and triple checking the gig calendar to confirm that one of my favourite weekends of the year, Green Man, has careered so quickly into view. August 2013 was 12 months ago, I’ll accept – but somehow it doesn’t feel time yet, even though I am exceedingly happy it is.

Reviving memories of last years balmy August weekend moves the mind into a fast state of imagistic recall, as the sublime (the electro-drone euphoria of F__k Buttons) and the ridiculous (feeling frustratingly alone amid the electro-drone euphoria, idiotically unaware of my friend standing next to me) re-assert themselves in my head’s event horizon. Yet despite how strong those recollections are, Green Man always seems to spring into the calendar rather than pre-emptively impose itself upon my mind.

As odd as it sounds – considering this will be the 7th Green Man in a row I’ve been to, half the reason for the above is because I don’t feel like a ‘regular’, at least not in the pub sense of the word and that is part of why I am now, as always, so excited to go back to Glanusk park with probably the best ever line up awaiting crowds. There is a genuinely brilliant mix of music on offer – just looking at the almost perversely good Saturday night headlining trio of Slint, Mercury Rev and the majestic East India Youth (check back next week for an interview with him) gives an indication of the incredible quality that comes with the diversity on offer.

Because of the authentically varied lineup, there never feels like there is one sort of festival-goer or coterie who can claim cultural ownership about what the festival exclusively is – hence why I always feel like this isn’t ‘my’ festival, it’s just a damn good one. Like a mystical, backstreet local that you invariably end up spending countless accidental, un-diarizable nights at, Green Man still feels a wonderfully communal, fringe concern. It’s a fine reminder that you shouldn’t go to a festival and feel like the organisers have, like a jaded barman with whom you only share mutual cultural ennui, already served you your predictably inoffensive lager. The usual? Same again? No thanks.

And if you’ll excuse the extensive beveraged metaphors, here’s the musical tipples we are looking forward to enjoying in a weeks time. Come back tomorrow for our preview of the best from Saturday at Green Man.

Friday

John MOuse – I Was a Goalkeeper – Walled Garden

Kicking off Friday’s festivities in earnest is John MOuse and we feel slightly guilty being able to only recommend one track from his excellent LP The Death of John Mouse, which skips from genre to genre and across emotional tones with impressive ease. Much of it is heartbreaking and the solemn ‘Robbie Savage’ is delicate whilst retaining the dark humour present throughout the album. This 1st single from it however, feels like a bright, bounding way to begin Green Man, with it’s nostalgic ‘trees-as-goalposts’ lyrics rollicked through with catchy impudence, not entirely dissimilar from guest vocalist Gareth Campesinos! ‘home’ team.

Caribou – Jamelia (Gold Panda Remix) – Far Out

Dan Snaith returns to Green Man for the first time since 2008, when he was riding on the back of winning the Polaris Prize for the psychedelic, brilliant electronic work Andorra. Single ‘Can’t Do Without You’ was released to huge excitement earlier in the year ahead of an autumn LP release, putting a house twist on his breakthrough Swim album, which is doubly brilliant for it’s long list of remixes, which give you a better idea of the kaleidoscopic intensity of his live performance, which will be even more key to catch as preparation before the Swedish intense Electronic act The Field take over with Far Out ‘After Dark’ duties.

Adult Jazz – Springful – Walled Garden

Adult Jazz debut album, Gist Is, seems to have many critics offering florid admiration, but often stopping short of outright love for it’s progressive, jazz take on something like experimental indie. That gets almost nowhere near describing where the band take their songs however, and indeed it’s an album that not only rewards multiple listens but also sounds like its aural nooks and crannies will unfold all the more melodically and satisfyingly live. ‘Springful’ is one of the most immediate tracks on Gist Is, sounding like a colourful, lilting TV on the Radio – with offbeat percussion and a depth of instrumentation which flits around the melodic vocals without being pointlessly playful.

Check back on Plastik over this weekend for Saturday & Sunday’s previews, plus next week for interviews with, amongst others – John Mouse and East India Youth.